


Blood Meal

by Orangistae



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Blood, Drug Use, F/M, M/M, Please don't try any of this at home, Well not really, but there is some snorting of substances, pandemic fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27615269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orangistae/pseuds/Orangistae
Summary: "I thought that you were sending messages with a band of lurkers, what happened to them?”“LARPers,” Guillermo corrected. “They had to cancel all of their upcoming meetings because of COVID.”Nandor looked at him blankly.“Coronavirus? You know, the pandemic? People are all staying at home and not going out because they don’t want to get sick. I told you about it the other day when you asked if I was going to a masquerade, weren’t you listening?”~~~Guillermo is having trouble sourcing virgins due to COVID, so he finds an alternative solution.
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless, Laszlo Cravensworth/Nadja
Comments: 12
Kudos: 65





	Blood Meal

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this tumblr post](https://genderdeath.tumblr.com/post/172941137802/speaking-of-which-i-hope-all-of-my-mutuals-know).

“Guillermo! Guillermo, I’m hungry, why haven’t you brought me any virgins to feast upon, as I commanded?”

Nandor strode into the kitchen, his cape billowing behind him, and glared at Guillermo. 

Guillermo looked up from the bowl that he was stirring, and grimaced nervously. 

“I’m sorry, master, I couldn’t find any virgins for you. But if you could just wait a few minutes—”

“What do you mean, you couldn’t find any? What kind of a familiar are you? I thought that you were sending messages with a band of lurkers, what happened to them?”

“LARPers,” Guillermo corrected. “They had to cancel all of their upcoming meetings because of COVID.”

Nandor looked at him blankly.

“Coronavirus? You know, the pandemic? People are all staying at home and not going out because they don’t want to get sick. I told you about it the other day when you asked if I was going to a masquerade, weren’t you listening?”

“I just wanted to know why I had not been invited,” Nandor said, pouting. “I mean, of course I was listening! The _crone_ virus, why didn’t you say so? I certainly do not want to be turned into a crone, so you are not to bring anyone back to the house who is suffering from this terrible plague, do you hear me, Guillermo?”

“No, of course not, master. But as I was saying, it’s been difficult to find anyone who _will_ come back to the house with me, so when I saw this at the hardware store”—he pushed a bag along the counter towards Nandor—“I thought it might be a good idea to stock up, to make sure you don’t run out of food in case this goes on for a while.”

Nandor peered at the label on the bag.

“Blood meal,” he read. “They are selling meals of blood at the store now? Well, that’s very convenient. Why is it in a bag, though, why not a nice ceramic jug with paintings on it, or a squeezy bottle?”

“Because it’s not liquid, master, it’s a powder. You need to add—”

But Nandor was already tipping some out onto the counter and exclaiming, “This looks like dirt, Guillermo! I cannot drink this! Where is the blood?”

“It’s dried blood, master. You just have to mix it with water, see?” He showed Nandor the dark red liquid in his bowl. “I’ve been trying to get it to the right consistency—there were a few lumps that wouldn’t dissolve properly, but it looks pretty smooth now—so I’ll just warm it up to the right temperature for you, and then you can try some.”

Nandor watched warily as Guillermo poured the liquid from the bowl into a saucepan, then went to the stove and switched on one of the burners. It didn’t light. Nor did any of the others. Guillermo sighed.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let Colin Robinson take care of the gas bill,” he grumbled to himself as he collected a handful of candles from around the room and arranged them together on the table. “He probably just drained all of the call center operators and then forgot about it.” 

Having lit all of the candles, Guillermo picked up the saucepan and held it carefully over the flames.

“ _Gizmo_!”

Guillermo startled, nearly dropping the saucepan.

“Why haven’t you brought us any virgins?” demanded Nadja as she swept through the doorway, closely followed by Laszlo. “We’re starving! What are you doing cooking soup over your sad little table fire when you should be outside looking for some lovely virgins for us to drink from?”

“Yes, I haven’t had any blood in days, and I’m positively withering away!” added Laszlo. “Why, I was attempting to service my lady wife just now, in order to distract her from these dreadful pangs of hunger, when I found that I hadn’t the vigor necessary to maintain a cockstand! Can you imagine? That hasn’t happened to me in over two hundred years!”

“Well, actually—”

“Two hundred years, I say! Nandor, why are you allowing your familiar to neglect his duties in this scurrilous manner?”

“It’s because of the plague,” Nandor informed them, stepping in front of Guillermo. “The crone virus. Everybody is sick with it, so Guillermo found us this dry blood that we can have instead, isn’t that nice?” He gestured at the bag, and Laszlo went over to inspect it.

“What’s this? Blood meal? Never heard of it.”

“But that’s not proper blood, how are we supposed to eat it?” Nadja complained.

Laszlo sniffed suspiciously at the heap of powder that had been poured out on the counter, and his eyes lit up.

“Oh, I know what this is! No, you needn’t eat it, my love, you can simply inhale the stuff, like so.”

Turning quickly to see what Laszlo was doing, Guillermo said, “Wait, no, I don’t think you’re supposed to—”

“Careful, Guillermo, you almost spilled my blood!”

“Blimey, that shit’s got quite a kick to it!” Laszlo exclaimed, throwing his head back and wiping traces of red-brown powder from his nostrils. “Well done, Gizmo! Nadja, you’ve got to try some of this.”

Nadja ignored him, scooping up some of the powder in a spoon and poking her tongue out to taste it. She made a considering face.

“Hmm. That’s not too bad, I suppose. Quite tangy.”

“Ooh, party in the kitchen!” Colin Robinson walked in and looked around the room with a hungry smile. “What’s cooking? No pun intended, ha ha.”

“That was definitely intended,” muttered Guillermo. Colin Robinson’s eyes gleamed faintly.

“Blood,” answered Nandor. “Guillermo is warming up some blood for me. Is it ready yet, or what? How much longer is this going to take?”

“Uh, let me check.” Guillermo put down the saucepan and rolled up his sleeve to test a few drops on the inside of his wrist. His face fell. “Oh. I think it might be a little too hot now. I didn’t think the candles would work that well.”

“It kind of tingles on my tongue,” said Nadja, licking up a bit more of the blood meal. “That’s quite pleasant, actually.” She eyed her husband. “Laszlo, are you thinking the same thing that I am thinking?”

“If what you’re thinking is that you’d like to find out what that tingling feels like on your nether regions, then I’m right there with you, my darling!” said Laszlo. “You fellows don’t need the rest of this, do you? No? Jolly good, then.” Picking up the still half-full bag of blood meal, he hustled Nadja out of the kitchen.

“Remember to put down a towel!” Guillermo shouted after them. “What is it, master?” he asked Nandor, who was staring at him with eyes gone very black and glassy.

“Guillermo. You have blood on your wrist.”

Guillermo glanced down at his upturned wrist, where the little pool of overheated blood shone darkly against his skin.

“Right. I’ll just—”

He reached for a dishcloth, but Nandor stopped him.

“No. Let me,” he said, raising Guillermo’s wrist to his mouth.

“Oh. Uh. Sure, master, if you want—"

Guillermo broke off into a strangled noise as Nandor suckled gently at his wrist, licking away all of the blood.

“You, uh. You’ve got a bit on the side there,” Guillermo said weakly, touching his fingertip to a red smear at the corner of Nandor’s mouth, and then watched, entranced, as Nandor’s tongue darted out to swipe it up. “Yes, that’s—you’ve got it, now.”

Colin Robinson cleared his throat.

Guillermo flinched, his eyes flying up guiltily. He looked from Colin Robinson, to the saucepan of warm blood, then back to Nandor, and shifted uncomfortably.

“Uh, master, do you think we could—”

Without shifting his gaze, Nandor held up an outspread hand, and Colin Robinson and the documentary crew suddenly found themselves pushed out into the hallway. They caught a brief glimpse of Nandor leaning in towards Guillermo, just before the door slammed shut in their faces.

Colin Robinson looked into the camera, and chuckled. 

“Well, well, Nandor and Guillermo, huh? I always knew those two crazy kids would work it out. And all thanks to that blood meal. You know, blood meal isn’t just useful for feeding vampires, it’s also one of the highest organic nitrogen sources for plants. Of course, the term ‘organic’ gets thrown around a lot these days, and most people don’t understand exactly what it means, but if you look at the USDA regulations you'll find that it's actually very complicated…”


End file.
